Chapter 4
Cooper returned to the pub just long enough to pay his tab, managing to duck out without encountering Scarlett’s friends.
Walking home, he wondered. About Scarlett and her daughter.
About the timing of it all. About her refusal to have coffee.
Although she’d clearly forgotten him quickly enough after he took the job in California, it didn’t seem as if she was in a relationship now.
Her not being married didn’t mean she was alone.
The questions plagued him. He didn’t sleep.
Instead, he spent the night on the screened-in porch of his rental, watching the moon track across the marsh.
The hum of the cicadas was a low-frequency vibration that seemed to sync with the frantic thrumming in his chest. He had come to Brookwell Island for a break, maybe some personal insight.
He’d come back to South Carolina so the salt air could scrub away the residue of a failed institution and his stalled career.
In the wee hours of the morning, he could admit to himself that he hoped to run into Scarlett again.
But never in a million years had he expected to see her playing the blues in a neighborhood pub.
The incongruity of it brought the reliable logic he prided himself on down like a house of cards.
Seeing her on that stage took him back to those idyllic summer days.
He’d been confident—almost cocky—and so damn hopeful. Not just about her, but about his future in general. Yes, he’d wanted her with him. No, he hadn’t been pushy about it. She was at the very start of her career and her opportunities had been vast.
And she’d chosen Brookwell over any of those options.
He spent hours staring out into the dark, his mind running through the variables.
He remembered Scarlett as the brilliant, watchful senior student who’d parked herself front and center during his Advanced Statistics lecture, her eyes wide with a hunger for knowledge and an intensity that pushed him to do his best for her, himself, and collective intellectual growth.
A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled their many discussions in his office. In the nearby coffee shop. Her curiosity about the guitar he kept in his office led to the discovery of her passion for music, which led back to math.
Everything led back to math. Until it led to something far more personal.
Cooper scrubbed at his face. He’d never forget his first taste of her lips.
They’d been walking back to campus after an evening with friends at a jazz lounge.
He’d been careful not to cross any lines with her, denying the mutual attraction growing stronger every day.
Despite a maturity beyond her years, she was younger and still officially a student.
He didn’t want either of them to get hurt.
But when the clouds overhead had opened up and they’d ducked into a doorway to wait out the rain, he’d lost track of the logic keeping them apart. Her laughter combined with the sweet fragrance of her rain-soaked skin had been irresistible.
He’d kissed her. Or she’d kissed him.
If pressed, he would’ve taken responsibility. But no one had seen them. Those tantalizing, incomparable minutes when he’d cupped her face and delighted in every soft moan of desire might as well have existed in another dimension.
A perfect place where they could be together.
He could separate the chapters of his life by that precise moment.
The rest of his summer as an interim professor had flown by.
Classes by day and Scarlett by night. Jamming in as many tours and beach trips as time allowed, though he only wanted more time with her.
Their connection was so profound, he’d been ready to shift his plans and career schedule just to stay closer.
To give them a chance beyond the summer.
And then the call, his dream job offer, right there for the taking. Scarlett had been the first person he wanted to tell. Her joy for him had been sincere and they’d celebrated with friends and later privately.
When it was time for him to go, she’d been a little sad, but not clingy. Her happiness for him was remarkable. They’d made plans for her to come out and see him. Plans he had been confident she meant to keep.
She didn’t.
He’d tried to stay in touch through calls, emails, and texts. And eventually, as her responses dried up, he accepted that something wonderful had slipped through his grasp. He blamed the age difference and the gap in their career paths.
As the first glimmer of dawn lightened the sky, he told himself once more that nearly twelve years had proven too much to bridge.
Eventually, he’d buried the sweetest memories of his life under layers of tenure-track committees and research papers.
He could only guess how she’d gotten over him.
Had to assume that she looked back at that intense summer with fondness for a fling.
A lick of temper shot through him. For years he could only guess and assume. He deserved a better answer. And now, she was right here in town. Within reach. Close enough to give him the explanation he craved.
So she’d turned down his invitation to coffee.
Fine. He didn’t need it to be an event. Probably better if it didn’t feel like a date.
Unless she’d moved away while he’d spent the night pacing, he could find her again and have a talk.
Surely there was some logical reason she’d never followed through on their plans.
He needed to hear her rationale if he was ever going to ease the vise locked around his heart.
That wasn’t exactly in line with the original low-key relaxation vibe that brought him here, but he refused to waste this opportunity.
Decision made, he nearly bolted out of the house to go looking for her.
But he caught his reflection in the sliding glass door between the porch and the kitchen.
Going out with his hair a mess, a scruffy jawline, and last night’s clothing would backfire.
Especially in a town likely to side with her over an old flame.
The hot shower and close shave perked him up.
The hit of caffeine from his first cup of coffee finished the job.
Feeling nearly human, he dressed in chinos and a navy-blue tee and slipped into sneakers better suited for a sandy sidewalk or the beach.
Grabbing his wallet, watch, and keys, he headed for the car.
His hands weren’t quite steady as he gripped the steering wheel. Nerves had him by the throat. But he needed answers. And fuel for the search. He found a parking place a block back from Central Avenue and walked back, aiming for the Palmetto Perk coffee shop.
But as he rounded the corner, he saw Scarlett stepping into the Bread Basket bakery.
The welcome packet at his rental recommended the highly-reviewed, cult favorite strudel baked fresh daily. No time like the present to find out for himself.
He joined the growing line, watching Scarlett through the window.
Last night she’d worn faded jeans and a peasant top, her hair loose and wild and totally the woman he remembered.
Today, she wore a simple pale green dress and she’d twisted up her long dark hair in a clip that left the nape of her neck exposed.
Was that skin still soft as silk? Was she still ticklish at the curve of her neck and shoulder?
“Hey, man. Line’s moving,” a voice said from behind him.
“Sure thing. Sorry.” Cooper shuffled forward, hoping he made it inside before she was walking out again. The door swung open as a few patrons left, their purchases scenting the air with vanilla and cinnamon. He understood why the place was so popular now. That aroma was instantly addictive.
The line moved inch by inch until he was finally inside, enveloped by the scents of buttery pastry and warm cinnamon.
Scarlett was at the counter, her back to him.
Blame it on the lack of sleep, but he stepped out of line, walking right up behind her without a conscious thought.
He’d expected someone to complain or shout at him, but this wasn’t New York City or San Francisco.
Apparently, here in Brookwell, folks were given the benefit of the doubt.
“Good morning, Scarlett.”
She jerked and spun around at the sound of his voice. He caught the last flicker of her smile before it vanished along with the happy sparkle in her eyes. Her gaze skirted across the room. “Good morning, Cooper.”
Her jaw was set and he was sure she was rattling through a litany of curse words in her head. All aimed at him, no doubt.
“Please don’t run off again.” He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so desperate, but the words were out before he could filter them through his usual academic reserve.
She scoffed. “As if.” She turned back to the young woman at the cash register. “Thanks, Lila. Can Cora stay a few minutes more?”
“Of course.” Lila gave him a hard look as she handed a white bag to Scarlett. “Have a good day.”
“I will,” Scarlett assured her. She jerked her chin, directing him to back up so the line behind her could progress. “Why are you following me?” She grabbed napkins from the dispenser, clutching them in her fist.
“I’m not. I didn’t.” But he had. “Not intentionally.” Except his whole intent had been to find her and now he was screwing this up. He cleared his throat and straightened to make full use of his height. “We had plans.”
She shook her head, her gaze cool. “You’re pulling that move with me? Unbelievable.” She glanced around. “Plans change,” she muttered.
“Tell me why,” he pressed. “Explain what changed and I’ll go away. Keep my distance. Please.”
“We had what we had.” Those eyes held him captive. “We had our time together and it ended.” Something wistful drifted through her gorgeous eyes. “I was happy then. With you. For you. The timing just wasn’t right for us.”